


Sweet like Candy, Sour like a Lime

by Kittie



Series: Blood like Ink [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Body Modification, Cannibalism, F/M, Gabriel Reyes is "dead", Horror, Jack does not die., Lots of graphic things in here, M/M, Murder, Reaper is the primary character, Tentacles, This is a twitter thread being fleshed out into a story, This is going to be a long fic so sit tight, This is the weird venom mash up no one asked for and yet, Transgender Jack Morrison, illegal vigilante work, there will be smut in this don’t worry I’m not going off brand, theres a lot of them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-04 04:53:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16340162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittie/pseuds/Kittie
Summary: There's no handbook for a new commander fresh in the line of duty. Keep looking forward, be the best you can be for everyone else even if you're failing.Jack meets a thing on the battlefield, it will take his life whether he wants it to or not.





	1. Chapter 1

The war is rife with tragedy. No one is safe from her bloody maw. Jack finds himself pinned down, blood soaking the side of his skull. Something is out there. It’s killing them. His entire squad is dead, their enhancements were nothing compared to the omnics. They came, they saw, and they destroyed without mercy. 

SEP lied; they weren’t enough. Amari shouts in the comms. As acting Strike Commander, Jack needs to say something--  _ anything _ . Their previous Strike Commander was KIA, leaving him to pick up the pieces. Jack isn’t used to being a commander, he’d always looked at his superior for that.

“Commander Morrison, I can’t see you.” Ana shouts over the communication network. Jack’s head throbs with every syllable. He needs to check in but his mouth isn’t working. He feels dizzy, enraged by a feeling of worthlessness.

He was created to defend those that could not defend himself. What use was he sitting here when everyone else was dead? He’d made the right call sending the others back and taking specialized forces with him. He didn’t lose his family but he lost his worth as a commander.

“Can’t-- give you anything. Might… be on comms.” Each word feels like moving a colossus. Black edges at his vision as the sounds of ceased gunfire. There’s crunching sounds around him. Mechanical sounds whirring into nothingness.

“Jack, something is happened. I can’t see what but there’s a--”

Ana cuts out. Jack leans his head against the dirt. _ Not her _ , he screams internally,  _ anyone but her _ .

Jack pushes himself from the dirt wall. His resolve is steeled. He picks up his pulse rifle and pulls himself over the ledge. He tosses his in-ear communicator and turns on the visor. No energy signatures. Just one massive--

“What the fuck?” Jack splutters. A mask tilts towards him, black ink dripping from its silhouette. He should act like a commander but this thing tilts its head towards him. 

“Hm?” The thing hums. Jack stands rigid, unsure of what to do. Fear coils in his stomach with nowhere to go but up his throat. He gags on his own terror. A fucking excuse for an enhanced human being, “Different.” The thing speaks.

“What the fuck are you?” Jack barks out, He raises his weapon to hopefully keep the creature from walking forward. It does nothing, the darkness parts around the barrel of his gun. Jack drops it in fear. He doesn’t run, however. He grits his teeth and lets this thing circle him.

“You’ll do.”

Jack doesn’t have enough time to scream. Black slips into his throat and fills his lungs. His skin feels as if it’s being burned off. 

It feels like SEP. After the first injection he’d felt like absolute ass-- yet now he feels a combination of deathly mixed with a heady sense of power . Within a beat he feels stronger but fights the ooze. He needs to.

_ Let it happen.  _

Jack is startled enough that the thing gains more traction to completely take over him.

_ Why? _ He thinks, hysterically. 

_ It will help you. Let it help you. Win this war. For us. _

Jack doesn’t understand the voice but lets it take an inch before the mile. He relaxes. He swears the creature purrs knowing his new host is accepting him.

_ You won’t regret this, sunshine. _

Jack doesn’t believe the voice.

All in all, the process took less than a second. The fear and agony made it feel like a lifetime. The creature is gone in the blink of an eye as Jack falls to his knees, coughing on his hurried breath. He feels weak yet empowered, off kilter yet surprisingly stable. Dirt and debris bite the inside of his palms, nails dragging into the soot of blown out buildings as he crawls to anything stable enough to house him until others arrive.

The crawl to safety leaves his knees healing, palms bloodied. He can’t find his communicator. He uses the visor to give his team a visual and voice, he can’t hear them without his ear piece.

“Sector… secure. Need evac. No survivors.” Jack lets his head knock against the brick wall. Bits of brick fall but the wall does not lose its integrity. He can’t stop the hysterical laugh that bubbles from his chest watching the dust from the wall drift in front of his face. His hands cup his face as he tries to quell the hysterics.

They’ll think him mad for this but he can’t help it. He’s having hallucinations in the desert of someone stepping in-- a thing ready to devour his entire being. The concussion most by worse than he thought. He needs medical sooner rather than later.

“Commander Morrison? Jack!” Ana shouts, stumbling over a wall that Reinhardt helps her over. She falls to her knees in front of him, touching the ripped fabric of his pants. It burns like a bitch. She hasn’t moved him, she must see the blood on his scalp and face when he removes his hands. He doesn’t think he can walk. 

“Amari? Fuck, I thought you were dead.” Jack reaches out to touch her-- to makes sure she isn’t one of the hallucinations he seems to be having.

“You should know better than anyone it’s difficult to put me down.”

Jack laughs, weakly. Pained. He lets his eyes shut as his temples throb to the beat of his pulse.

“Jack… I’m glad you’re okay. I thought--”

“I’m fine. I’m… fine. Cleared the check point. We have control of the sector. We… need to get back to the evac team. Need…” Jack loses steam, the world begins to feel less and less real with every breath.

“Jack, I need you to stay awake-- Jack? Jack!”

The pull of darkness feels too strong to fight in this state. He’ll be fine. Ana is there. She’s always looked out for him after Gabriel died.

The darkness is nothing to fear. 

Maybe he’ll finally see Gabriel again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on twitter @bottomboybye :')
> 
> I hope you like it! I wrote a thread on my twitter that I'm fleshing out. Mostly that was kinky, this will be more story based.
> 
> Feel free to leave comments, kudos, or feel free to buy me a ko-fi @ https://ko-fi.com/bottomboybye !
> 
> Thank you to everyone who encouraged me to write this out. I couldn't do this without your support. ♥


	2. Chapter 2

It’s a day like any other. The heat is brutal but under the cool breeze of the in-unit air conditioners-- it feels a little bit more bearable.

“Go fish.” Gabriel grins, the next play is the winning one. Smith sits in front of him, ears growing red with frustration. He throws his cards on the table, cursing under his breath. With little to occupy themselves with, even children’s games become cut-throat. 

Jack is more occupied with Gabriel, however. He knows that smile more than he knows himself. He’s seen the sly grin thrown at him more times than he can count. The grin makes his heart beat ever so slightly faster. He can’t give that away in polite company. Not what they have. 

“Fuck you, Reyes. I swear to God you’re fucking--”

“Your mom. She said thanks for the thrill. Ain’t ever had--”

“Cut it out,” Jack laughs, shaking his head. He nudges Smith who rolls his eyes. A bitter loss but Jack had been rooting for Reyes. Jack had slipped Gabriel a card or two this match to see if they’d win, “Come on, Reyes. Play me. See if you can cheat me?” Jack stretches to loosen taut muscles, before wincing at the strain. He hasn’t been post op for long enough to allow that much free movement. It doesn’t hurt, per say, it merely feels tight.

“Hey, Morrison, cool it. You know what medical said.” Reyes chides but everyone in the room knows this is special for him. Jack had talked about it nonstop when the doctors said they needed to remove his chest when his cells started to reproduce too quickly, something about cells dividing too fast for him to wait until after injections for removal as the plan had originally been. Two of them had to undergo the procedure when the complication became known in those with too much fatty tissue in their chest. Rare side effect to get two out of one hundred, but Jack couldn’t count his blessings enough. He doesn’t know if his mental stability could have taken waiting three years for top. 

“Yeah, yeah. Just know I’m gonna kick your ass once I get cleared for full active duty.” Jack grumbles. He settles in to play against Reyes when an alarm goes off. 

Drills. Great. Jack’s shoulders sag as he puts his cards down. There’s shuffling in the room as everyone drops what they’re doing to heed the call to arms. 

“Jack, we’ll be back soon, okay?” He catches Gabriel whispering. Jack tries to give him a smile but he can’t help but feel like he’s lagging behind. 

“Yeah, I know. Go train to save the world or something.” The soldiers in the room trickle out only leaving himself and Reyes. They share a look. Gabriel looks both ways, leaning down. Jack makes a soft sound, enjoying the feel of Gabe’s facial hair and chapped lips. He’ll be happy when they can have these moments in front of others, not worry about who will catch them. 

“Reyes!” Someone shouts down that hall and Gabriel pulls away from him.

“Promise you’ll be back?” Jack asks, like always.

“Always.”

 

* * *

 

Waking up is rough. Jack’s mouth feels dry, sounds are sharp. The beeps should reassure him that his heart still functions but he feels old-- the sound makes him want to punch something. There is a strange feeling of not belonging in his skin as the world focuses in front of him. 

“Jack?” Ana whispers quickly. A quick look at her lets him know she looks terrible. He wonders how bad the damage was if she, a legend among men, could be so frazzled. He doesn’t feel pain. The medication must be good. 

“Hi.” Jack rasps. He closes his eyes to drift for a moment. His mind feels like water, he can’t seem to catch a thought for more than a minute. 

“Doctors said…” Ana’s voice is quiet. Far away. He struggles to keep what she’s saying on track. 

_You’ll be fine._ A voice says in his head. Jack chooses to believe his conscience. Clearly, he’s right. 

“Jack, are you asleep?” Ana asks, realizing he zoned out. 

“High.” Jack mumbles. He can barely focus, let alone give her the conversation she so desperately craves to have with him.

“Okay, I’ll leave you to get some sleep, can you do that for me?” Ana whispers as she pushes covers against Jack. He’s cold, he realizes. Cold. It’s a weird feeling. 

_ Eat her. _

Jack jerks back from the thought, head shaking. Ana has turned away from him to grab something but his thoughts keep rolling. 

_ Hungry. Eat her. Let me eat her. _

_ No _ , Jack rebuts. He is confused on why he’s having these thoughts to begin with. A glance to his hand shows a sweeping of black ooze covering his fingers. The chill turns to a scorching heat. He shakes his hand trying to get rid of the goo. Bits fly off but turn to smoke the moment they leave skin. All he can smell is decay, burning ozone, and... fear?

“Jack?”

“Wanna sleep, go home. I’ll be fine.” Jack says as he hides his hand away under a roll of blanket. Ana shakes her head before leaving the room. Fear hasn’t settled in his stomach, the drugs make him too woozy to feel much of anything beyond detached curiosity. 

“I’m hungry, Jack.” Comes a growl next to his ear. Jack turns, sharply, to see the mask that he saw in the desert. Smoke wisps along the black edges, the eye slits in the mask opens up an abyss. Jack struggles to concentrate on the deepness of color, the never ending black hole that threatens to pull him down into the depths of Hell. His brain can’t comprehend what’s happening. Why is he feeling like he’s tail spinning? “Feed me. Let me eat. Need you to let me feed.” 

“No.” Jack says simply turning his head away from the thing. What a weird pain medicine hallucination. His heart monitor never wavers. He knows, about as much as he can know flying high as he is, that this thing is merely a side effect of the medication pumping into him through his IV. It will go away with time. 

The mask wavers in front of him when Jack chooses to ignore it. It’s far easier to shut his eyes and sleep. No mask. No ooze. No smoke. Just the bliss of sleep, uninterrupted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on twitter @bottomboybye :')
> 
> I hope you like it!
> 
> Feel free to leave comments, kudos, or feel free to buy me a ko-fi @ https://ko-fi.com/bottomboybye !
> 
> Thank you to everyone who encouraged me to write this out. I couldn't do this without your support. ♥
> 
> Thanks to crookedfingers for proofing this chapter for me I am Bad At Life.


	3. Chapter 3

When Jack comes to, once more, he finds the sun warms his room. He feels good. He turns to look over at the other hospital bed but finds he’s in a room. Alone. For a split second, Jack finds himself opening his mouth to call for Agnes. Wrong. This is wrong. This is not Arizona. This is— Egypt. 

“Strike Commander?” A timid voice asks. A nurse stands at the doorway. He looks at her, rasps out something unintelligible. His tongue feels too big for his mouth, “You look pale. Can I help you?” 

“What time is it?” Jack manages to say. He feels good but over tired, “Where’s Captain Amari?” With every word, Jack finds his body catching up. Within a few minutes, he should be fully capable. 

“Noon and Captain Amari will be here shortly. I can get—“

“Ah! Commander!” A voice booms. Jack winces at the sound. He may not have a headache but Jack’s only just getting his energy back. He isn’t sure if he’s quite ready for Reinhardt, “You’re awake! Ana will be so happy!” 

Yeah, he needs three cups of coffee to be ready to deal with this. 

“Just woke up. Feeling human again.”Jack offers a soft smile as the nurse checks his vitals. The conversation is nothing to write home about, but it keeps him occupied. He never finds himself at full capacity but he caps out at a good 85%. It feels as though something is slowly seeping his energy. Perhaps it’s the conversation? He knows spoon theory, vaguely. 

But, in the end, It’s better than nothing considering how long he’s been cooped up in this bed. He wants to go home to base. He wants to run. He wants to work out. He wants to eat real food. 

“It is good to see you in such health! We were… worried.” Reinhardt’s words turn stilted, eye turning towards the door, “Captain Amari has been… upset. She will not say so but after Commander Reyes…”

The silence permeates the air. They all lost something that day. No body for closure. Just his guns and enough blood to announce him dead. 

Jack squeezes his eyes shut. He’s not ready to remember the agony of losing his better half. 

“I get it, Wilhelm. I feel… good. I’m just ready to go home.” Jack reaches out, patting Reinhardt’s hand. He can’t stop seeing something out of the corner of his eye. It disappears every time he turns to look at it. 

Could is be debris floating in his eye? It does seem to disappear every time he looks at it. 

“Commander?” Reinhardt asks, even at a whisper he voice booms, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. Sorry. Got something in my eye and it won’t go away.”

“Ah! I know that feeling.”

“That… was stated in poor taste, my apologies.”

Reinhardt smiles, something soft rather than his boundless exuberance. Jack feels an ache in his chest he thought he’d long since buried. 

“It is quite alright, Commander. I’ve come to terms with it.”

 

* * *

 

“If you ever do that again, Morrison, I’ll kill you.” Ana snaps in a righteous display of fury. Well placed and well deserved. 

“Love you too, Amari.” Jack says, smile bright enough where he can hide how it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

She hugs him. Jack feels his chest constricts. 

_ Eat her _ . His mind supplies. A weird thought to have about his best friend. He isn’t attracted to her. He can’t fathom why he has an urge to do so. 

_ I’m gay _ . He reminds himself. He shouldn’t need to remind himself of such things. 

Plus, by the longing looks he sees between the pair of his friends, she has someone to go home to that isn’t just Fareeha. 

 

* * *

 

Jack is released to base with some over the counter medication that he knows won’t do damn thing to help his headache. His head is pounding. His skin feels off, too tight across his muscles. There’s a nagging voice in the back of his skull he’s yet to tell anyone about. How does he explain an echoing of his conscience begging him to eat. He’s had so much food he doesn’t understand the nagging thoughts. He isn’t about to get pulled from the mission by being ravenous. They have a world to save. He has a group to lead. 

_ I miss you.  _ He finds himself thinking. A few images of Gabriel in his gear commanding them in the heart of battle floods him mind. He misses how sure he was of the mission, how he kept them on track, and how he never left a soldier behind. Jack has failed at all of these. He’s has no idea why the burden landed on him. 

These thoughts never leave. They haunt him every second of every day. But, for now, all he wants to sleep in a bed without a needle in his arm. First things first, he needs to shower. 

A perk of being the Strike Commander is his own room with bathroom amenities. He steps into the room, light kept off to not further exacerbate his headache. It doesn’t stop him from catching movement in his peripheral vision. He turns to see the mask from before. It stares at him with an emotionless front. 

Is he still that high? He reaches out to the mirror and touching the glass. The glass is cool, no sensation which means what he is looking out is a reflection. The thing doesn’t react beyond the mouth opening to expose sharp teeth. It looks defensive. 

_ Feed me _ . It mouths. Jack finds himself hypnotized by the thing. He should feel fear. He should feel anything but abject curiosity. 

“What are you?” He asks the thing. It turns its head towards Jack. The man has to pull his face from the mirror to see the manifestation attaching itself to his arm. The feeling of being drained is far noticeable than it was prior. The blackness grows on his skin like a disease. He can’t move. He may not feel fear but his body is frozen. 

“Reaper.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on twitter @bottomboybye :')
> 
> I hope you like it! I wrote a thread on my twitter that I'm fleshing out. Mostly that was kinky, this will be more story based.
> 
> Feel free to leave comments, kudos, or feel free to buy me a ko-fi @ https://ko-fi.com/bottomboybye !
> 
> Thank you to everyone who encouraged me to write this out. I couldn't do this without your support. ♥


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Be warned there be cannibalism in this chapter.

Jack’s reaction is beautiful. Reaper purrs, something deep and guttural, as those bright eyes widen before hardening. The look of war, aggression in motion-- it reminds him of his home. The never ending destruction to live. Oh, the way Jack growls alights his fluid being. 

He made a wonderful secondary host. Not fully compatible but only five percent less than perfect. 

It’s even better when he catches Jack’s hand and the aggression finally morphs to fear. Reaper can taste it, licking the perspiration from his skin. He tastes intoxicating, a hint of salt to the sourness of distress. The pheromones exuded by his host’s terror excites him in ways he hasn’t felt in so long. It would be a pleasure to devour him, but he can’t. He won’t find someone as close to his previous host again. 

“Let go--” Jack gasps out, throwing himself away from the monstrous blob that slowly eats away at his skin. The tanned flesh is overcome by the inky, sticky mess of whatever it is eating him alive. 

Yet, Jack feels no pain. If anything, he feels empowered and ravenous. He can still flex his fingers in the abyss that engulfs him. 

“No, John Morrison,” The creature-- Reaper-- utters. The fluidity of his neck wraps around Jack’s throat. He can still breathe but the tightness is a warning. It also turns his fear into something mysterious. Deep. Alluring. Reaper finds he wants more even if Jack wants less, “You are mine.”

Jack’s heart shoves itself into his throat. Fear becomes him. He’s sweating, trying to breathe through the panic he feels. His legs have been taken over by the darkness. He’s paralyzed, pinned.

“But I am… lenient.” Reaper pulls himself away from his limbs, lets Jack’s body crumple to the ground as he sucks in breaths. Jack can feel the tears burning his eyes, he squeezes them shut to hide his embarrassment. If he can’t see, this can’t be real. 

“What are you?” Jack manages, cheek pressed to the hardwood of his hall. If he could manage to stop the shaking of his limbs to call his phone, he could call Amari and--

“No one can help you, John,” Reaper lets a tendril pet along his jaw, caressing the sweat slick strands of his hair, “No one **but** me. I’ll protect you like he was unable for you, like he was unable for me. We’ve both been betrayed by what was ours. Let me help you-- help me, John.”  

“Jack.” He begins to push himself from the floor, Reaper looks at his host with a curious glance. Everything he knows about John Morrison proves true. He will push himself too far, “My name is Jack.”

“Reaper. Stop calling me thing, it’s hurtful.”

Jack manages to get his feet under him. His stomach growls, it feels like his insides are eating themselves. He’s hot. Cold. Feverish. He shrugs off his shirt in an attempt to feel normal.

“Well, don’t know what the fuck you are, so. Tell me and I’ll stop calling you that.”

He’ll still call Reaper a creature to whoever the fuck he wants to, thank you.

“Symbiote. I need you to live just as much as you need me right now. I am incomplete, just as you feel. I will make you whole.” Reaper rumbles. Jack watches his hand flex as the thing completely takes over. 

SEP had nothing on the rush he feels, here and now. 

“I don’t remember consenting to a parasite.” He snarks before finding himself flung into a wall, Reaper sinking back into his skin. He tries to pull himself off but finds he’s stuck-- solid. Panic bubbles in his chest as he feels that thing-- Reaper, he reminds himself, coalesce around his chest. 

“I am not a parasite.” The growl chills yet warms his very core. The feelings conflict. Jack can’t parse through what he feels.

“Right. Not a parasite. Just Reaper.”

“Yes, and I am hungry, Jack.”

The way the word hungry rolled off his tongue sounded more threatening than it should. 

“You’re out of luck because I can’t cook for shit.”

Reaper knows things about Jack. He knows Jack likes to sleep on his right side. He can't sleep with any light making an appearance. His favorite color is blue. But these are things Reaper knows from his previous host. He has seen Jack through the eyes of another. 

He remembers his Jack’s predecessor speak of Jack’s lack of cooking skill.  

He pushes Jack’s body to walk to the door with little resistance. He can feel the vibrations of Jack’s teeth grinding in effort. It is as fun as he had mused to his prior host. 

“We’ll hunt.”

Jack doesn’t let Reaper take over without a fight, but he was never taught to fight something in his mind. There’s a disconnect from the world, like he’s watching everything from a different perspective. 

He barely notices when they leave base. He knows they have but he can’t stop it. It’s against regulations, he tries to get out. 

Reaper won’t listen. 

Reaper purrs when he finds food. It’s pilfered from a stand of some sort. Egypt has been confusing to him. But nourishment is something Jack realizes he needed. The smell leaves his (Reaper’s?) mouth watering. The first bite tasted off. They both gag. 

_ What are you doing? _ Jack asks, furiously trying to regain control of his body. He can’t fight off the hunger, the weakness he feels watching Reaper throw perfectly good food away. 

_ Hungry. Need food _ . Reaper replies. He throws himself off the edge of a building, into a dark alleyway. A mugging, something simple. Jack’s instinct to help spurs Reaper into motion. The fight is over before it started, the mugger eaten alive as the victim runs. 

Jack will never forget the scream, as long as he lives. The taste of fear and how it excited Reaper. The way bones crunched and blood tasted. The way Reaper purred his satisfaction. 

The relief that washed over him that soothed his starvation. 

Reaper dissipates, once satisfied, leaving Jack to pick up the whirlwind of his emotions. He cannot tell where he ends and Reaper begins. 

Brick feels rough against the pads of his finger tips. The alley smells sour as Jack vomits what little he can get out of his system. Reaper had done an amazing job of digesting that man before Jack’s gag reflex could get the better of him. 

He feels hot. Cold. Dizzy. Feverish. 

“You can’t do that,” Jack gasps out, rubbing at his mouth. He tries to push away but find himself falling into the building. He sees the ground getting closer but he can’t find the will to care, “You can’t just. I just. We just.”

“I am here to live, Jack. I must feed—“

“Not on people. Not like that. We need to. I need to. I have. Food. At my place. I…”

There’s music in his ears, the ground should feel wet but instead he feels something akin to a hand caress his cheek. 

“I have you, Jackie.”

In the last moments of his awareness, he swears he sees Gabriel. 


End file.
